


Family sticks together.

by traumaesistenziale



Series: Life Begins Anew [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: 5x12, Adult Martin, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arkham Asylum, Batman cameo, Blackgate Penitentiary, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Jim being a little bitch, Light Angst, M/M, POV Edward Nygma, POV Martin, POV Oswald Cobblepot, Pining Edward Nygma, Post 5x11, Post-Wedding, Reunions, Revenge, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 11:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18777445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumaesistenziale/pseuds/traumaesistenziale
Summary: Set in 5x12. Oswald and Edward have adopted Martin and got married, but let it to Jim to ruin what was supposed to be the best day of their lives. After spending ten years in Blackgate and Arkham respectively, Oswald and Edward have quite the grudge against Jim, but they are not the only ones.“He had wanted this for so long, now that he was finally there, he didn’t even know what to do with himself. He just wanted it, this, all of it, all of Oswald right now. The joy and laughter, the frowns and bickering, the jokes, the touches and kisses. He had been missing him for so long, he had almost gotten used to missing him, in a way. So now that he was there and it made no sense to miss him anymore, he felt like he could explode if he didn’t find a way to fill up that emptiness that had been plaguing his existence for years, and he knew Oswald was all that could heal him with his presence, his voice, his body, with himself.”





	Family sticks together.

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes before you start reading.
> 
> First of all, warning: Jim is really a bitch in this one LMAO so if you are a Jim Gordon fan be aware of that. That's not to say i'm not, by the way! I love my man Jim, it's just that... in this one? Yeah, he is kind of a little bitch. Come on Jim, get your shit together (i made him even worse than in canon... you'll see).
> 
> BUT TO JIM'S DEFENSE, he was trying to do the right thing. Okay, let's move on.
> 
> Secondly, in this you'll see an adult Martin who is about 20 or 21 during the events of 5x12. Of course, since such version of the character doesn't exist in canon, i took my own liberties with it. I hope you like it, but you don't have to agree with all of my choices! (But then like, that really goes for all characters, really. I try my best!)
> 
> Also, this is a sequel to my previous fic in this series, but it works just fine as a stand-alone work. No worries. All you need to know is that during the battle for Gotham Ed and Oswald got together, and after that was done, they decided to get married and adopt Martin. So, they spent the next few months planning their wedding. And this is where this one begins. 
> 
> Okay, i'm done. Enjoy! :)

Oswald and Edward had never looked happier. They gazed into each other's misty eyes with such big smiles, it was hard not to let it rub off one-self.

They looked beautiful, both entirely dressed in white. Then, everything came crashing down. At least they had slipped those “I do”s in there just in time.

Police officers broke down the doors, Jim Gordon's all too familiar voice shouting the usual “GCPD! Everybody freeze!”. People running away, screaming, shooting.

Through all of this, Oswald looked straight through the chaos around them, and found his eyes, stared straight at Jim. An accusatory stare, of someone who felt betrayed and offended in the most hurtful way. He couldn't believe Jim would do this, of all times, on the day of his wedding. Come on, what the fuck?

But Ed pulled him down, Oswald begrudgingly followed, and they both crawled behind some chairs, trying to get away. Their attempted escape didn't last long.

Some officer got his hands on Martin. Oswald stood up, shouted to let go of him. Martin struggled and failed to get himself free, and stretched his arms out, in a last desperate attempt to reach him, but Harvey got in the way.

«Get the boy out of here.» Jim shouted the order at his partner, who nodded and grabbed Martin, dragging him away.

Some of Oswald's men aimed their guns at Harvey, but Oswald caught them before they could do anything.

«Don't shoot! Are you crazy? You could hurt Martin!» he yelled at them, cursing them for their incompetence. He had hired them to keep them safe. He was a known criminal who had been in charge of the entirety of Gotham's underworld multiple times, and had stepped on more feet than he could count. He knew he had enemies, he could never take enough safe measures, especially on a day like this. What he would have never expected was that of all people, Jim Gordon would be the one barging through that door and ruin this.

And now they were taking away his _son_.

«Really Jim? Really? On my wedding day?» he snarled at him.

«Oswald Cobblepot, you are under arrest-» Jim spoke unperturbed.

Ed tried to pull Oswald away, but they soon got surrounded and they had nowhere to go. Of course they both had hidden knives in their suits, you never know when you'll need one, but right now there wasn't much a couple knives could do against all those guns aimed at them.

«Let go of me. Let go! Let my son go, Jim!»

«-under charges of-» Jim continued, ignoring his shouting.

«Don't touch me.» Edward threatened the policeman currently putting him in cuffs, but to no avail. Oswald turned to him and watched the scene, powerless, while he was being cuffed as well.

«Charges of what? What are you arresting us for?» he interrupted.

Jim sighed. He got very up and close to Oswald, and he didn't look too happy about this. Odd enough, since nobody was making him do this, it was all his doing, and Oswald would have assumed Jim would be quite smug about this.

«You are criminals. That boy is innocent and still young. He deserves a better life than this. And I have plenty of crimes to accuse you of.»

Oswald struggled and tried to get himself free.

«Does it matter at all, everything I've done for this city? All I have sacrificed? I could have run, you know that? I gave up that opportunity to stay and fight, and now I have a chance at a new life, and you want to take it away from m-»

«It's not new, Oswald. It's the same old life. I can't let you get that boy involved. Besides, you have no claim on him. The adoption wasn't exactly conducted under legal terms.»

Oswald bared his teeth. He couldn't argue with that, he knew Jim was right about the adoption. He had pulled some strings to make it happen, but Jim must have found out. This couldn't stop Oswald from being furious out of his mind. He would have used those teeth to slash Jim's flesh right now, if he had had the chance, he would have hurt him in any way possible, if only he could have gotten his hands on him.

«Oswald!» Ed called him, while they dragged him away.

Oswald watched helplessly while his husband got manhandled by the police. Jim was still standing in front of him, and Oswald looked back at him now. A frown so deep, a glare so intense, if he had had that power he could have drilled a hole into Jim's skull.

«We both knew this day would come.»

«Yes. I expected you would do this. But today? Of all days?» Oswald sounded almost resigned now.

Jim sighed. He looked pained by this. Not that Oswald cared what Jim felt. He could drop and burn, as far as he was concerned.

«Yeah... I'm sorry, Oswald. Congratulations.»

Jim gestured to the officers holding him to take him away.

«Jim! No, let go- This isn't over! Jim! Jim!!» Oswald's desperate voice echoed within the high ceilings of the chapel.

 

 

Martin looked at the officer currently locking him up in the bullpen. He was tall enough now that he could stare at him eye to eye, and he did so, he didn't shy away from glaring.

He looked around. Everyone in the precinct was too busy to pay attention to him. He wondered if any of them even remembered or recognized him. It had been years, but he still could recognize the faces of the people who were there on that day, many of whom there were still there.

He looked around on his side of the bars too. Only a couple of sad-looking probably drunk low-lives were in there with him, sitting in a corner, apparently resigned to their fates. Martin turned his attention to the outside again.

This wasn't the first time he had gotten in there, and it would probably not be the last either. But he had never been arrested, they could never pin anything on him, or he would have spent those few past years in juvie, instead of still being free to roam the streets of Gotham.

Passing from family to family, until he was finally eighteen. He felt free, for the first time in a long time, even now, even if he was stuck in there – for now.

He watched a man approach. He had a few more wrinkles that he used to, and he had grown a mustache, but Martin would have recognized that face anywhere. He could have almost felt flattered that the Commissioner would get all the way over there just for him – if he hadn't hated him that much, that is. He glared at Gordon who approached the bars. Gave him a scolding look, as if he had been disappointed in him. As if a man like him, guilty of what he was guilty of, had any right to feel such a way towards him.

Jim noticed Martin's expression and grimaced.

«You could do so much better that this.» he said, pointing with his chin at Martin's current location.

«You have nothing on me.» Martin signed.

Jim sighed. They had had enough encounters that Jim had been forced to learn sign language in order to effectively communicate with him. He had rendered it necessary. He would refuse to communicate in any other way. They had tried to give him paper and a pen, but he had only ever used it to draw extremely vulgar doodles, and after a while they realized letting him have a pen in his hands wasn't a good idea in general, since he had proved himself capable, multiple times, of turning it into a lock-picking tool to get himself out of cuffs.

«No, we don't. As usual. But I know what you have been doing... Martin, you are an adult now. You won't have people trying to take care of you anymore. If you mess up now, the next step will be Blackgate.»

«Then I'd say hi to dad for you, but I doubt he'd appreciate to hear from you.» Martin snarked back.

Jim nodded resignedly and opened the door, moving aside to let him walk past.

Before he could, Jim grabbed him by the arm. Martin pulled away instinctively, but he stopped to listen.

«He was never your father. And you don't have to follow his footsteps.»

Martin pulled his arm out of Jim's hold, keeping eye contact indignantly, then he shook his shoulders and he walked away.

He passed Bullock in his way out, and granted him a very quick glare, before heading out. Bullock was one of the few officers who could recognize him, and to know exactly who he was.

He'd better not think that Martin had forgotten, or forgiven. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel Bullocks arms around his small ten years old body, forcibly carrying him away while he'd wished he could actually scream for the first time in his life, stretching his arms out, trying uselessly to reach his father, while other officers got in the way.

His main grudge wasn't against Bullock, however. He had a real true enemy, almost an arch-nemesis of sorts, as he liked to consider him, and that spot was already taken by Commissioner Gordon.

It always ended like this. Each of their encounters. He would be sent to a new family, someone filled with hope, who would think they could change him, put him on the right path, or sometimes simply someone who had really no idea who he was, and would later grow to wish they had never found out.

It was different when he was little. He was a child, there was only so much he could do. He didn't understand much of the world back then. His options were limited. But after doing this, over and over, for a while, he finally refined his skills, and his methods.

He knew how to make people tick. He knew how to draw people to despise him, to hate him, to want him dead. He could drive them to hate each other too, and he had done that a few times, but the other method was easier. They couldn't arrest him, if it was self-defense. And they could never prove he had ever done anything wrong, other than defend himself.

People had always had a tendency to underestimate him. To ignore him, push him aside, undermine him even without meaning to. He had learned to bask in that. It was comfortable, it left him a lot of wiggle-room for a lot of things. Because he was quiet, in more ways than being mute, and because he often went unnoticed anyway, he could easily move around and move things around. He could listen, take, push. He could learn secrets nobody else could have learned otherwise. People seemed, not to trust him, not necessarily, but to assume that because he couldn't talk, they could just say whatever they wanted around him. As if they confused being mute with being deaf.

He used to be hurt by this, but he quickly realized what kind of advantage that gave him.

So, what if his last family's home had gone up in flames. No one had gotten hurt, anyway, and he hadn't been the one to start the fire.

Thus, police had to let him go, once again.

But Jim was right about something. He was an adult now. They couldn't force him into a new house, a new family, another situation he didn't want to be in. He was on his own, that much was true, although he felt like he had always been anyway, but he was also _free_.

 

 

Oswald couldn't enjoy his finally regained freedom, he couldn't rest, until he had made him pay.

«Hello, old friend.»

He snuck in the back of Jim's car, gun pointed at him.

«Oswald-»

«One more word and I will put a bullet in you, here and now. Drive.»

He knew what he had to do. Or better, where they had to go. What better way to end this? Of course, he forced Jim to drive them to the pier.

They got out of the car, and Oswald made Jim walk up to the edge.

«Oswald...»

He interrupted Jim. He didn't care what he had to say, he was done listening. Jim had had his chance to do the right thing once, and he had chosen wrong. No way to come back from that now, he couldn't work his way out of this with words. There were simply no words at all. Jim couldn't give him back all he had take from him. All those years wasted behind bars. His family.

«Don't. Talk. Turn around! Remember when we stood here, Jim? All those years ago? Don Falcone wanted you to shoot me, you refused? Now, don't you wish you had done it?»

Their relationship had always been strained, but to the very core of it, at least that's what Oswald used to believe, there was some deep respect and mutual understanding. All of that was gone now, if it had ever even been there. He had no respect, and certainly no fondness, for the man standing before him.

«Everyone would know you did this.»

The weakest line of defense. As if Oswald could care about what people would think of him for killing the man responsible for ruining his life. If anything, he was sure he could strike some sympathy in the hearts of the people of Gotham – not that those people were any better than Jim himself. Nobody had shown him any gratitude, any mercy in the face of such an injustice. Gotham had turned its back on him.

He chuckled.

«Let them! We both know that this had been a _long time_ coming. Our story is over, old friend.»

«You wanna kill me, fine. There's no need to attack the Wayne Tower.»

Oswald was taken aback by that remark.

«What are you talking about?»

Jim looked tired.

«Breaking Nygma out of Arkham, the attacks on the gangs? What do you think, you are gonna be able to stroll in the Wayne Tower and no one is gonna notice?»

_Breaking out Nygma out of Arkham?_

«I don't know what you are talking about.» he grimaced.

He wouldn't let himself be sidetracked by whatever bullshit was taking place in Gotham at the moment. He wasn't there for that, he was there to exact revenge. No, better. To exact _justice_.

«You and I stood shoulder to shoulder on those barricades, ready to _die_ for this city. Six months later, you locked me up _like and animal_. You took everything from me. You took away my freedom, my sweet dog, you took away my _son_. You took away my _husband_. It was our wedding day, Jim! This begins and _ends_ with you and me.»

«You are telling the truth...»

Jim sounded actually surprised by that. Had he not heard anything he had just said? Of course he was telling the truth, he hated his guts and wanted him to die. And he would, right now.

«Good bye, Jim. Turn around!»

«You know, you made a mistake taking me out to this pier...»

«Don't. Talk.»

He didn't have the time to react.

«Or maybe you just have a short memory.»

Jim jumped in the water, before he could even realize what he meant. Oswald shot at him, shot at the water, but to no avail. Jim was gone, he had certainly missed every shot and he had no way to catch him now.

He felt the frustration build up. This wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Jim deserved this, he deserved to pay, to die. Oswald felt a pain in the middle of his chest and he let out a long liberatory scream.

Maybe it was better this way, he was forced to consider. He had to look at the positives, he couldn't let himself be drowned by negative feelings right now.

Jim was still alive. That meant he wasn't meant to die like this, but in a much more painful way. And Oswald would find it and he would inflict it upon him, he would take everything from him, like Jim had done, and he would destroy him, piece by piece.

Now, that, sounded like real justice to him. A quick death just wouldn't do. He had been too hasty in his judgement, after all. Jim had just given him the right idea.

All those years, locked up in Blackgate, being alone was what had hurt more than anything.

Knowing what he could have had, and what he had been robbed of.

Loneliness wasn't all. He got ridiculed. Other prisoners knew him, knew what he had done, knew who he used to be. Once king of Gotham, now, just one of them. Treated like some common criminal.

At first that hurt. Hurt his ego. Then, he realized it didn't matter, because those people didn't matter to him. But he couldn't stand to be once again entirely powerless. He had truly lost everything, then. His name, his repute, too. And he knew in his heart, Jim was the one to blame.

He would have to work his way to the top. It took a while to get acquainted with the idea, but it was nothing he hadn't done before. He could do it again. And again. It was what _Penguin_ did.

And so his work begun. He wanted to be smart about it. He quickly figured out who the toughest guy in there seemed to be, and he attempted to befriend him. It didn't exactly work out the way he had hoped, as his subsequent trip to the infirmary could testify.

Then, he tried a different approach. If he couldn't join them, _beat them_.

He made himself small, he made himself humble, he made himself helpful.

It stung and it picked at his pride. Way too many times he had found himself in a similar situation. With Fish Moony, With Don Maroni, with Don Falcone, with his awful step-family. Having to pretend to be completely harmless, to willingly subject himself to insults and ridicule, and always responding with a bow and a smile... but it always paid off in the end, and this time it would too. It was all worth it, if it would help him to climb to the top.

So, he made himself useful to the prison guards. He begun snitching for them on the other prisoners. It worked well for a while, this won him a number of privileges. It didn't last long, however, because eventually the others figure out it was him.

He got beaten up, pretty badly. He was lucky his new eye hadn't gotten damaged, he wasn't sure how many times he could afford to lose it.

If that hadn't been enough, a second even stronger blow hit him right in the stomach, knocking the hair out of him.

He had been exchanging letters with Edward. It was one of the only things keeping him sane, but only a few months in, they had decided this was too dangerous, and took that away from him. They said they couldn't afford to have two of the most brilliant criminal minds in Gotham communicate so freely, especially when said criminals happened to be married to each other, and wouldn't pass a chance to profess their undying love for one another. They didn't trust them, they got paranoid that they could be hiding secret messages in those letters, that they could be plotting something together.

They weren't, not yet at least, but it didn't matter. It's not like they would believe him.

He was in the cafeteria, eating his lunch alone, in silence, when some came to bother him. He was still recovering from the last beating. He had two different black eyes in different stages of healing, a still swollen lip, several slightly cracked ribs that still hurt like a bitch with every breath he took, and if that wasn't enough, he felt more pain in his leg than he had in years.

He wasn't just beaten up, he looked like it, and not just physically. He refused to acknowledge the two big tough guys standing over him, he continued eating in silence, staring emptily at his own tray.

After they had tried and failed to get his attention a couple times, one of them pushed his tray off the table, making all its contents fly in the air, and attracting everyone's attention too. Now everyone's eyes were on them. Oswald still didn't look up. He hid his hands under the table, spork still in hand, and he took a deep breath, bracing for whatever form or amount of pain about to come.

«Looking sad, birdie. What is it? Missing the husband?»

One of the guys, one with a lot of tattoos and a rough voice, teased him. Of course, everybody knew about him and Edward. It had been a relatively small, but rather public ceremony, after all. Even more so than either him or Ed had wanted it to be.

After the incident, the story had been all over the news, not a single paper had let go of the chance to tell their own version of the events of that day.

It had been a good call for Jim to press to make Oswald and Edward end up in different places. It wasn't that hard, Edward always had the unstable personality card to play, except this time they had played it against him. As for Oswald, nothing wrong was found with his brain. Nope, he was deemed a perfectly normal, moderately sane, common criminal.

And now, even though news took a lot longer to reach the inmates from the outside, once in there they circulated quickly, and everyone knew. About Oswald's feelings, about his relationship, about the wedding. Luckily enough, papers didn't seem to mention Martin that much. He guessed he had to thank Jim for that one. Clearly, he had tried to keep the boy out of this as much as possible, but Oswald didn't feel grateful at all. That was the least Jim could do. If on top of everything else he had done, if he had also put his son in danger, Oswald would have hated him even more than he thought was possible to hate anyone, even though he'd assumed he had already reached that limit.

Oswald didn't answer. Nothing he could say would change the outcome, all he could do was at the very least not actively make it worse by antagonizing those guys.

He knew why they were mad. He had snitched on them at some point. He didn't care why or how, he didn't bother to remember, and he had no remorse. They were all just pawns in a game he had thought he could win for a while. He wasn't so sure anymore.

«No answer? You know what, it's too bad he isn't here, right?» he asked the second, slightly thinner guy with longer hair.

Thin guy sneakered and nodded.

«Too bad he's a total nut-job that one, and they had to send him to the madhouse, we could have had fun with him in here.»

Oswald inhaled, trying to stay calm. He had to remind himself that those were just words. Ed wasn't there, they couldn't hurt him.

«What was his name? The Rattler?» tattoo guy laughed.

«It's the _Riddler_ , you ignorant nincompoop.»

Oswald couldn't help himself. The words came out strained through his teeth, quiet, but loud enough for them to hear and react to them.

«What did you call me?» tattoo guy leaned over the table getting his face closer to his. Oswald still refused to look up. He closed his eyes, preparing for the worst.

«He asked a question. Go on, repeat that.» thin guy pressed.

He could smell tattooed guy's breath from that close, and it wasn't pleasant. He grunted in his face, as he'd known what Oswald had been thinking.

«You aren't gonna play with us? Fine. You know, you are boring. No wonder that Riddler guy left you to go hang out with the nutcases.»

Just senseless provocation, it meant nothing. The inmate got even closer, right in his face, trying to force him to look up. Oswald didn't respond. It was pointless trying to use Edward against him, there was nothing they could say that would break him.

«Still nothing? Not even a snarl? Damn, love has made you weak, bir-»

Before he had even finished his sentence, Oswald's body moved on its own and he discovered a second later that he had just planted the spork right in that guy's eye, who was now screaming in pain. His blood dripping everywhere, getting on him too.

Oswald stood up, he grabbed the injured man's head and pulled the spork out of it. His eye came out with it, and Oswald almost gagged at the sight, but looked away and right into the second guy's eyes. Now he would give them the snarl they wanted. His face must have been terrifying enough, another man's blood all over his face, eye on a spork still in his hand. He guessed even sporks could be used a weapons if used right and pushing hard enough.

The second guy took a step back, still freaking out about tattooed guy's screams. Various other prisoners stood up, but none dared get closer. Oswald noticed, just like he noticed the guards converging on him from different directions.

Before they could stop him, he climbed on the table to make himself taller.

He spoke loudly for everyone to hear, bloodied spork still in hand, waving it around emphatically, dripping blood all over the place, while he looked at everyone else in the eyes.

«Anyone else has something to say about Edward?! If you do, come forth and fight me now, or _shut the hell up!_ »

He shouted as loud and as forcefully as his voice permitted, until his throat felt sore. Somewhere along the way, he realized the eye had flown off the spork and onto some table. In the meantime, the guards had reached him, and they quickly tackled him and carried him away, forcing him to drop the spork, and eventually tasering him when he kept thrashing.

When he woke up, he found himself in solitary. It was a very small cell, completely empty aside from a small narrow bed, and the door was thick and made out of solid steel.

He remained sitting there, wondering about why he had done what he had done. He was no stranger to violence, that was for sure, but he thought he had been trying to keep to himself and not start any trouble... how had he managed to carve out a man's eye, with a spork of all things?

He thought about the last thing that idiot told him.

“ _Love has made you weak.”_

Was that really what had made him snap? His blood still boiled thinking about it, so he guessed that was it.

Why, it was easy to figure out. Because it simply wasn't true. None of the things they had said were true, of course, but those he could rationalize, he could prove, they were facts. This matter was personal and much more intimately delicate than those morons could ever begin to understand.

Insinuating that his love for Edward had made him weak... how dare they?

They knew nothing, nothing of him, or Edward, or their relationship, or their history, everything they had been through.

He had believed love to be a weakness, and Edward used to believe that too, at some point. But not anymore. He had done things he would have never thought possible, out of love. Because of love, even thanks to love.

He knew now that nothing could ever come in between him and Ed ever again. Not those idiots, not captivity, not Jim Gordon. Yes, they were separated now but this wouldn't be forever. They would be together again, eventually, and he would pull through all of this with his love to fuel and sustain him.

He took a decision right then and there.

He would get out, he would reduce his sentence and get out early for good behavior. He could do this, he knew he could. He just had to be strong, and then, once he would be out, he would go to Ed and help him, get him out of Arkham if he hadn't gotten himself out on his own yet by then, and then... he would come for Jim.

This had been almost over nine years ago. Now, he stood on the pier, watching the water splash in the dark, with a much greater purpose in mind. Killing him wasn't enough, he had already established that.

Jim had gotten away, but regardless, he had other concerns right now.

Such as locating Edward, now that he knew he was out and about somewhere in Gotham. He had to find him.

It appeared he had somehow broken out of Arkham, and from Jim's words it seemed like people had reasons to believe that Oswald was behind it all. He had no idea how Ed had actually done it, or who had helped him, or what their real intentions were, but he had to help Edward before he could get in even more trouble.

 

 

It was just yet another day in his life at Arkham, Ed couldn't have imagined how much things were about to change in just a moment's notice.

First, he found out, completely by chance, that his husband was getting out of Blackgate. He had to find out by peeking over a guard's shoulder and reading the headline in the newspaper. He wasn't surprised nobody was going to tell him.

Everybody knew about them. Not that anybody cared anymore about him or who he used to be, surely not in there, where half the people were too out of their minds to form a coherent productive thought, or simply too jaded to actually care about their inmates' feelings.

Arkham was really some kind of hell. But, he had managed to survive that long, long enough to see the day Oswald was finally going to walk free. He gasped when he read that headline.

His first emotion, beside surprise, was happiness. It was about time. Then, he couldn't help but think about the implications of this. He didn't know when he would be able to get out of there. Or _if_ , for the matter. There was the question if now that Oswald was free, he would try something to break him out. Ed held up this hope, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't want to doubt his husband's feelings or his devotion, but it had been years.

Literal years. Ten, precisely, since they had last seen each other, and about nine since they had last heard from one another.

He couldn't be sure about how Oswald felt, but he knew how _he_ felt.

He missed him. He being _with_ him, and especially being the person he was when _he_ was with him. He missed being himself, fully, unapologetically, openly.

He had had to dial it down a little in there. There were definitely folks crazier than him, but talking to himself in the mirror, pestering everybody with riddles, obsessing over puzzles and mysteries... all of that surely didn't help his situation. They gave him some medication, they tried to get him to do some therapy, but for the most part, they had given up, and honestly, mostly didn't care.

He had tried going down that path, he had tried really hard. After they had stopped permitting the correspondence with Oswald, he had decided he had to do something. Of course, he had tried breaking out of Arkham before, a long time ago, during his previous stay, and then again during this. None of it ever worked, no matter how clever his plans were, they always seemed to be one step ahead of him. He had to guess that they had finally done some research on him and taken safer measures to be sure to keep him in there, boosting up security, and keeping a closer eye on him.

Anyway, he had tried pretending. It had almost worked a couple times, but eventually, after months he had to give up that too.

It was quite the plan, pretty simple too. Convince them that he was cured, and they would let him out, like they had last time. Except, last time Oswald had done the work for him, procuring him a certificate. And except, Arkham these days was less of a correctional facility, and more of a dump. Not that he missed professor Strange or his methods, god knew he still hated that guy, but at least back then they did _something_. This was just dull. Boring.

If he hadn't been marked as insane from the start, he surely would have been anyway at some point, if he didn't get out of there soon enough. Indeed, it wasn't clear how he had survived that long. Actually, he wasn't sure himself. He guessed he always held the hope that one day he would see Oswald again, and that had kept him alive and, well, as sane as he could manage to be.

As to why his attempt had failed, he had had quite some time to ruminate on that too.

See, pretending to be perfectly mentally stable wasn't a problem. Both sides of him working together to achieve the same goal, forcing himself to feign regret over his many crimes and his past misconduct. Feigning remorse for ever taking on the persona of the Riddler. Pretending to despise the Riddler, blaming him for everything. Getting emotional while confessing that all he would ever do if he got out, would be to live a new, simpler life. Entirely legal, peaceful, away from all the danger and violence, and his old law-breaking ways, just to live as himself. As Edward Nygma.

And yet, as soon as he was confronted with the fact that that implied never seeing Oswald again – since Oswald was a known criminal, and that would be slipping into his own old life and habits for Ed, and Oswald would be a bad influence on him – Edward started to fail.

The nail on the coffin, as to be expected, had been when he was asked if he'd ever try to contact him, and had been discouraged from doing so. Edward broke his facade and started insulting doctors and nurses, warning them to watch the way they were talking about Oswald, because that was his husband they were talking about, and shouting at them to carry some respect for a great man who had risked his life to protect this city and save all of their asses, and telling them that there was no way for them to keep him away from his husband, and his son, forever.

Anyway, today was still just a regular day, so far. When he proceeded to stab Jeremiah in the leg, because why the fuck not, the guy was as good as dead as far he was concerned anyway, it wasn't a surprise to see the guards coming for him. It was more of a surprise when they put a bag over his head, and even more of a surprise when he woke up, god knows how much time later, completely free, sitting on a chair in a basement.

He looked around in shock, trying to figure out how he'd gotten there. There was no one there, just him. Him, and a military box in the middle of the room, and a letter, waiting for him.

He cautiously approached those, and he opened the letter.

Already the sight of a little umbrella symbol made him smile. He almost couldn't believe it, but it wasn't impossible. In fact, that's what he had been wishing for all along, for Oswald to come save him, somehow. And yet, he wondered why Oswald would do this in such a mysterious, secretive way. Where was he? Why not show up? Was he not as eager to see him as he was to see Oswald? But maybe Oswald needed him to do something for him first, and if that appeared to be the case, Edward wouldn't shy away from helping him with whatever he needed his help with.

This became increasingly clear as he read the letter.

«Oswald...» he sighed to himself, holding the letter to his chest for just a moment longer, while he examined the contents of the box.

Emotions were almost overwhelming, holding a letter from him again, after all that time.

That used to be the one thing he would look forward to, during the first few months there, and he had missed this too. His heart sped up at the thought that soon he would get to see Oswald again, in the flesh.

He wasn't sure what his husband needed those explosive for or what his intentions were, but Ed was ecstatic to certify that Oswald hadn't forgotten about him, and just as the letter read, it was time to show the world once again who the Riddler was.

Sadly for Ed, his plans to kidnap the mayor and threaten everybody to blow up the tower with the explosives supplied by Oswald, were pathetically foiled. All he had wanted was a good, grand comeback, in style, but Barbara and Selina had to ruin that for him.

Barbara busted him out, confronting him directly about what he was doing. He laughed when he realized she was trying to stop him.

«Do you even remember how amazing you used to be?»

He teased her, but it was true. Despite their differences, Barbara Kean had always been pretty badass, even he had to admit it.

«Honey. I'm still amazing... I just made a choice.»

Edward's smile dropped. _A choice_ , she called it.

«You made a _choice_. Some of us didn't get to make choices.»

As if everyone had gotten the same opportunities as her, as if some others hadn't gotten their freedom stripped from them with brutal force.

«Some of us... weren't afforded the same treatment. May I remind you, that I and Oswald _fought_ to defend this city? If anyone deserved to have that _choice_...»

Ed trailed off. He took on a harder expression, and focused back on the matter at hand: his plan.

«I am the Riddler. And tonight Gotham will remember that.»

Barbara smirked. At least some things hadn't changed – Ed thought.

«By blowing up this ding-dong? Didn't you do that already?»

«It's a callback!» Ed huffed in frustration. He couldn't expect her to understand.

She hadn't had to spend ten years of her life locked up, she hadn't had to pause her life, and she hadn't had to find an efficient and striking way to orchestrate her return... because her life was never paused. Her life had gone on, she had moved on, changed, done things with her-self.

He had spent ten damned years losing his mind in a hole, and what did he have to show for it now? A sparkly new green suit and a plan that wasn't even working.

Before he had time to realize the trick, Selina came out of nowhere and hit him in the head, knocking him off balance. Next thing he knew, he was being carried into a room full of screaming people, face to face with none other than the man himself. Jim _fucking_ Gordon, what a surprise.

He had waited for this moment. Among the things he had been planning to do as soon as he'd get out, confronting Jim had always been one of them, but then Oswald came to him with this plan, and he got sidetracked. But now there he was.

Jim got up in his face and Ed was already preparing for the verbal sparring they'd have, before Ed could threaten to kill him and make him pay for locking him up.

All Jim did, instead, was ask him about the C4.

«He said Penguin broke him out.» Selina helpfully commented.

«No. It wasn't Penguin. Get him out of here...»

Jim quickly dismissed him, no doubt getting back to work to figure out his explosive riddle.

«What?» Ed tried to reach Jim, to ask him more about that. How did he know? Could he be sure? Had he talked to Oswald, did he have any proof? Ed needed to know, but Jim got too busy ignoring him, all of sudden, and Ed was carried away before he could inquire any further.

It wasn't possible. The letter... was that a fake? Had he been blindly following someone else's words? He realized he had been so desperate to reconnect with Oswald that he would have done anything, but now that the curtain had been opened, it was clear to him that the signs had been there from the start, he had just been too quick to drop any common sense in the name of sentimentality to notice them sooner.

His whole day had been one hell of a ride he was now beginning to realize he had never agreed to be on. He was tired, and realizing that he had been fooled and that Oswald hadn't been the one to break him out after all, had completely wrecked him.

He fell back into his doubts, withdrawing inside his head, where he could overthink and analyze and, frankly, just panic. Had Oswald abandoned him, had he moved on, forgotten about him? He didn't believe it possible, but he didn't want to exclude the possibility, just in case it was indeed possible, so he would at least partly be ready to deal with that scenario if if ever came to pass.

When later he found himself manhandled for the second time on that same night, and rudely thrown into a limousine, he was barely even surprised. Of course this was happening – he thought to himself, counting his misfortunes – but then, he heard a familiar voice, and his attitude instantly changed.

«Edward Nygma. It is very good to see you.»

Edward turned around, staring at him for a moment like he couldn't believe he was finally, actually there.

«Oswald...»

Ed paused. He was just in awe. He couldn't bring himself to look away from that face he loved so much.

«I thought you were behind this.» he forced himself to continue.

«I'm not. But I thought you might need some help. What else is a husband for?»

Oswald had said that so naturally, like no time had passed at all. Ed felt his chest warm up and he let out a chuckle.

«You look well.» said Oswald. Ed knew he really didn't, though. He had lost some weight, he must have looked tired like he hadn't slept in days. At least he had gotten a haircut in time before Oswald saw him with that mess on his head.

«You too...»

Ed took the time to actually observe the man in front of him. He was just as beautiful as he remembered him being. He hadn't really changed that much, except for, maybe...

«A little thicker in the middle.» he commented.

He couldn't help it, he had to point it out. It was the only obvious difference since he had last need him, except for a few new wrinkles, but not even that many. His face still looked soft and youthful, all considered, if anything a little more plump that he remembered. But none of this was negative. Ed was just excited to certify and state out loud those little changes, because it helped him ground himself in the moment better, since he was still having trouble believing that this was happening. But it was. They were there, Oswald was actually there.

He noticed Oswald getting silent and looking down for a moment, and it hit him that maybe Oswald could be a little self-conscious about his body. That would have to change, but for now, all that Edward could muster was just-

«Damn, it's good to see you, Oswald.»

They both laughed. It was intimate and tender, just the two of them – well, and the driver – sharing a moment, after not being at all in contact for years.

Ed scooted closer and leaned towards him. His eyes were still blue and beautiful, even his replaced eye, now hidden behind a monocle. He looked as dapper as ever, and just so... wonderful. He was smiling back at him, and that made him even more beautiful to Edward. He had missed all of his expressions, but he was glad that the first he got to see would be this.

Oswald leaned in too, finishing closing the distance between them and connecting their lips. Edward cupped his face and a moment later he couldn't help but deepen that kiss. He had wanted this for so long, now that he was finally there, he didn't even know what to do with himself. He just wanted it, this, all of it, all of Oswald right now. The joy and laughter, the frowns and bickering, the jokes, the touches and kisses. He had been missing him for so long, he had almost gotten used to missing him, in a way. So now that he was there and it made no sense to miss him anymore, he felt like he could explode if he didn't find a way to fill up that emptiness that had been plaguing his existence for years, and he knew Oswald was all that could heal him with his presence, his voice, his body, with himself.

Then, something crashed on the roof of the car, and both of them pulled away, getting increasingly scared when they realized the driver had lost control of the car and they crashed against a lamppost.

They immediately got out of the car, Edward first, and he hurried to help Oswald out and check up on him. Luckily he looked all in one piece. Still, this begged a lot of questions.

«What the hell was that?»

Oswald asked, and that was definitely one of them.

They heard the sound of what had to be a cape flapping in the air and they looked up only to see some freak dressed in black coming for them. In unison, they screamed in terror, grabbing onto each other in the hopes of both finding and offering some protection, but that did close to nothing against _whoever_ the hell that was.

The freak spoke in a deep voice, he looked imposing despite his ridiculous costume- was that...? Was that supposed to be a bat costume? Ed couldn't believe his eyes – but why was he even surprised, this was Gotham after all. He had seen worse. Strangely enough, it felt almost like a relief to certify that in those ten years this city hadn't changed at all.

«Penguin. Riddler.» the spooky bat guy spoke.

A chill came down Edward's spine. How did he know their names? Was he from Gotham? And yet, had never met someone with this specific shtick before.

«Forget about the past. This is my city now.»

_His city?!_

They didn't have much time to argue, because he somehow quickly and easily overpowered them, and a few minutes later they found themselves tied up to each other, hanging from a lamppost, still trying to process what had just happened, angrily thrashing their legs in a useless attempt to free themselves.

If Ed could be grateful for something out of all of this ridiculous business, was that at least he was with Oswald.

 

 

Martin walked down the alley, gun in hand, ready to do this.

Ever since Oswald had been let out of Blackgate, Martin had been keeping an eye on him, but he hadn't approached him directly, yet. He needed to assess a few things, first.

For example, he had been made aware of Edward's escape from Arkham, and that had made him curious. He had had to wonder if his father had anything to do with this. Certainly, the timing was rather suspicious. He admitted to himself that he liked this thought. It made him happy to think that his dads would still be so in love after so many years, to break one another out of jail.

As he grew more and more agitated he had to admit this too, he couldn't wait to finally see them both again.

He had been following Oswald's limousine, he had seen that guy in a black cape land on their car and he had gotten really scared for a moment, wondering what he was gonna do to them, but then he saw he just wanted to rough them up, scare them a little, and as ridiculous as it sounded to say, he was relieved to see his dads hanging from a lamppost.

Before he could do anything, he heard sirens. He couldn't believe police was already there. Was that bat-person somehow connected to them, or had he warned them? How could they have gotten there so fast, otherwise? This was interesting.

Martin continued considering these thoughts, while he watched the police try to get his dads down from there and then cuff them them, rudely pushing them into a police van without a second thought.

Martin didn't waste time. He knew where that van was going to drive, so he retreated into the shadows and he moved as fast as he could, before the officer could even start the van, then he waited, checking that his gun was still there.

And so now there he was, in that ally. He heard the van come and he stepped out of the shadows and walked right into the middle of the road, pointing the gun straight ahead at the van and he shot several rounds.

The police officer was caught by surprise and swerved, avoiding him and crashing into a pole.

Martin heard screams from inside the van, and he smiled to himself, recognizing the voices. If they were screaming in fear, and not in pain, that meant they were okay.

Relief got mixed with the mounting anticipation and it was kind of a lot to be feeling all at once in that moment. He couldn't believe it, he was going to see them again.

He heard the backdoors of the van swing open, accompanied by sounds and voices that told him they were there, just seconds away from him. He couldn't yet see them, because the van was in the way, but he recognized the familiar voices. His heart was pumping furiously in his chest and he started to walk towards them.

 

 

«“Gotham is mine”, that's what he said.»

Oswald couldn't get that scene out of his mind. Who did that freak think he was?

«I know. I was there, Oswald.»

Ed sounded kind of annoyed, but that barely registered to Oswald, busy as he was getting worked up over that unfortunate encounter from earlier.

«I did not spend ten years in Blackgate, to give my city to a man _dressed like a bat!_ »

Ed had already been working to get both of them free from the cuffs, and he finally did it, when they heard gunshots. Oswald immediately shut up.

They froze for a moment, looking at each other, trying to read the situation. Oswald wondered who it could be, if someone really was shooting at the van. He couldn't think of a single name of someone who could be there to rescue them, so he had to assume the worst. He didn't even have to tell Ed, who clearly had the same thoughts, and sharing just a look they were able to communicate to each other the same idea: they had to get the hell out of there, fast.

Then, before they could have the time to try to jump out of the van, before they could even reach for the doors, the van swerved violently and Oswald lost his balance, tumbling down along with Edward, who tried to latch onto him to stop him from falling, but ended up following him instead.

Ed grunted and looked at him. Oswald paused for a moment, waiting to check if everything was alright, but nothing hurt more than expected, so he was fine. They helped each other up and they didn't waste time now, immediately jumping out.

They stood there, looking around and at each other, wanting to make absolutely certain the other was okay. But they were, both of them.

Oswald smiled at Ed in relief, but it wasn't over yet, and both of them got serious, clearly thinking the same thing. They were unharmed and now they would have to face whoever had been shooting at the van, and would find out what their motivation was.

They heard only silence, so they begun to walk around the van, finding pieces of broken glass on the ground which they carefully stepped around, only to finally come face to face with a man in a suit and a bowler hat.

Oswald froze in his place, instinctively grabbing Ed's arm – to stop him, but also for support.

The man looked young, dapper in his suit, with a blank expression on his face, and a gun still in his hand.

Oswald swallowed, wondering what was going to happen now.

«What do you want from u-»

Ed begun, quite aggressively, but Oswald stopped him, stepping forward and putting one arm in front of him.

There was something about this young man that ringed familiar. When it hit him, he hesitated to say it, because it was hard to believe, but it had to be him. He felt his throat close up, chocking him up with emotion.

«Martin...?»

He dared ask. Ed shot him a glance, then went back to staring at the man before them.

The young man finally smiled, and Oswald felt a wave of relief and joy wash over him, he gasped, and he couldn't have explained how he managed not to cry.

«...Martin?» Edward repeated, incredulous.

Martin begun walking towards them, fingers still tightly gripped around his gun. Oswald noticed, and he couldn't help but feel anxious about this.

«Martin, I'm so sorry. I broke my promise.»

It was true. He knew it to be true. He had promised a little boy that he would have never left him again, but that's what he had done. Against his will, sure, but he wasn't sure that mattered.

He would have begun making excuses, trying to justify himself, blaming others, bringing up how lucky they were to be together once again, but nothing came out, his voice just got chocked up. So he just stared, eyes wide, while Martin raised his gun.

Edward stepped forward this time, stepping in front of Oswald, protectively. Oswald grabbed onto his arms, not exactly pushing him out of the way, but pressing forward to avoid losing eye contact with his son.

Then, Martin's gun moved just a bit to the side, and he shot. Oswald instinctively ducked, but his eyes followed the trajectory of the bullet, and he realized Martin had just shot the driver, who had just regained consciousness and was about to use the radio to contact other officers. Right in the temple, a clean shot too.

Oswald looked at Edward when he gasped, huffing out an amused sound. Then, both looked back at their boy. He wasn't a boy anymore, he had grown up so much. Oswald felt his heart fill with pride, it was almost too much to handle.

Martin quickly put away his gun, hiding in the back of his belt, freeing his hands to start signing.

«I'm not mad at you, I know it wasn't your fault. I don't blame you.»

Oswald felt so much relief, for a moment he thought his legs were going to give out, but luckily Ed was there to hold him.

«I did for a short while... but I was a child, I didn't know how to cope with loss. I've had time to grow up, to learn. And I know who's to blame for all of this, now.»

«Jim Gordon.» Edward spoke. It wasn't a question.

From Martin's expression it was clear that that was what he was going to say. Oswald glanced at Ed, and nodded at him, then back at Martin too.

«Yes. He is to be blamed for all of our misfortunes, for everything he's put this family through...» he almost got chocked up again, looking into Martin's eyes, but he pushed through this time, tears filling up his eyes and voice becoming coarse with rage, «...he has to pay.»

«And he will. We'll make him.»

Oswald's eyebrows shot up.

«Martin? Do you have something in mind?» Ed asked, sounding amused and impressed, and definitely curious. Oswald felt the same way, and watched Martin expectantly.

«Yes, but everything in due time. We have a lot to catch up on. I haven't seen my dads in years, so before everything else I want to-»

Martin didn't even finish signing, he just started running and in a moment he had reached them, and wrapped both his arms around Oswald. He felt his son's desperate grip on his back, and he reciprocated with just as much enthusiasm. Edward stood there awkwardly for a moment, then Martin pulled back just enough to stretch out an arm and reach for Ed, pulling him in too. In a second, Edward's arms were wrapped around them both, and Oswald let out a short, happy, sigh.

Even though Martin was an adult, even though they were all ten years older, even though he and his husband hadn't seen each other for years, suddenly Oswald felt like no time had passed at all.

They were still there, and they were still _them_ , all three of them, they were family.

He had made it, he was home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I think i already said all i wanted to say, but i want to apologize again for making Jim such a bitch LMAO
> 
> I have had this idea for a while, but since i wrote the previous work, i really didn't think i was going to write the wedding, i just wanted to skip it altogether and just say it happened... but then. Then i had this idea of Jim crashing it and i liked it so much i just had to. Because, you know. ANGST. And as if Oswald and Ed (and Martin too in this case) didn't have enough reasons to hate Jim already... because even in canon, Jim wasn't super fair to them, to be honest. Maybe it's just my opinion, but yeah. I said it. Jim was already a bitch in canon.
> 
> Okay, my reasoning for his behavior, though, is that he found out Oswald tried to adopt this little kid (who was like, 10, at the time), and he was like "not on my watch!", because Oswald and Edward are criminals and Jim didn't want a kid to have to deal with that life. He always worried about this kid, though, and often checked up on him.
> 
> Also, about Edward the dog. I barely mentioned him here, but my headcanon is that after Jim arrested them and put Martin back into an orphanage, he also took Edward the dog, and he put him in a nice shelter where he continued to live the rest of his life! So, nothing bad happened to him, not to worry! Although, bulldogs have relatively short lifespans, so... i genuinely couldn't tell you, guys. Maybe he is still out there, he is just super old!
> 
> Last, note, then i'll leave you alone. This fic... gave me ulterior ideas- GODDAMMIT
> 
> This was meant to be the conclusion of the series, but who knows... again, not promising anything, unless inspiration really strikes, but i'll leave it open for now. Maybe... maybe that revenge really is coming, after all. Watch your ass, Jim.


End file.
